


The First Thing He’ll See

by mashisims



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alexandria Safe-Zone, Fluff and Angst, Innocent Ron, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashisims/pseuds/mashisims
Summary: Right in the middle of the Alexandria herd, helpless; terrified Ron watched as what was left of his family was torn apart by walkers and how his- friend, was shot with someone's bullet that was not his. Now Ron has to decide if his life is really over or not; is everyone gone or does he still have a certain someone?





	

What was Ron thinking of when he looked at Carl? He hadn’t had the time to stop, relax and think about what had just happened; it was more like a shock. He hadn’t only seen how someone had decided to just shoot Carl in the eye; he had been there when the walkers began to take away the last remains of his small, broken, and very dysfunctional form of family. Looking at Carl, with a hole on his head, without showing any signs of life bothered him a lot. Sometimes he hated the guy; sometimes he missed his friend. Carl had always showed support towards him, if not with words, then with his company.

Ron knew there was a possibility that Carl wouldn’t wake up. He knew that sitting next to him and staring at him wouldn’t make him wake up any faster either; but that was the only thing he wanted to do.

Outside the infirmary, the group began to get together; the ones who fought the walkers in the streets, the ones who stayed hidden in their houses, and the ones who had just arrived. They were catching up on the details and trying to send reassurance words and looks to each other.

When Rick came out of the building and closed the door behind him; everyone turned their attention to the man. 

“How is he?” Nervously asked Daryl, who had just managed to adjust to his own wound on his back.

“He’ll be fine” Rick said with a sigh, looking at the ground.

The confirmation seemed to be enough for most of the survivors to look away and return to their previous silent positions.

“Where’s Jessie?” 

Rick didn’t care who had asked the question everyone was dying to ask. He didn’t dare look up nor open his eyes. He touched the arch of his nose with his fingers as in trying to hold back the tears, the screams or maybe just his own words.

“And the kids?”

Rick lifted his head from the ground and opened his eyes; they wandered around the place but they never met with anyone else’s.

“It was Sam and Jessie” Rick stopped. “At the same time” He finished with his raspy voice. He didn’t need to say any other thing. Everyone already knew they were dead, but they still hoped they wouldn’t be.

“And Ron?” 

Rick sighed again; this time trying to let the tension escape his mouth. He was still trying to process the events from the war of death; he had been there, present in the flesh; he had seen them die, but he still couldn’t believe it. A part of Rick was still waiting for a blonde, beautiful woman to make her way to the infirmary and ask for her son as she adjusted a new, clean, blue flannel. So, when Ron was being asked about, but not in the way he hoped he would, he began to realize it had all been real, and he had witnessed it with his own lifeless eyes.

Rick brought his hands to his face and made his way to the empty space in the wooden bench, sitting down.

“He hasn’t left his side”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Ron decided to bring his chair closer to Carl, as he still profoundly slept. He studied his expression, waiting for it to change at any moment, yet hoping it wouldn’t. Ron didn’t want Carl to die, but he wasn’t ready to confront him when he opened his eye.

Carl’s body was so stiff Ron began to wonder if he was actually breathing, and resisted the urge to place his hand on the boy’s chest to check the pulse. He would just need to have hope.

With a half-naked body, he couldn’t believe how young he looked. It somehow reminded Ron of the times when he, even with the world ending and living in Alexandria, cared about the way he looked. Ron would stare at his body every day, in the beginning he admired it; he awaited for the muscles to start showing, he loved the idea of having a nice-to-look-at body under his clothes. It soon turned into Ron looking for bruises and him trying to cover up his dad’s signature from his body. It hadn’t been that long when Ron began to feel disgusted at the sight of open cuts and mixed colored bruises, so he would always cover them up and he would always put his clothes back on as soon as he looked at himself. One day, he woke up, and he didn’t feel like stopping in front of the mirror for a quick view, he just avoided looking at his reflection most of the times.

Maybe it was trapped in the depths of his brain, but he started to examine what was visible of Carl’s body with his eyes; he was looking for bruises, like he used to do to himself.

Ron had never noticed how Carl’s arms were filled with small scars. Some of them looked old, some looked pretty new to him; he tried to guess which of those injuries had occurred during the invasion, besides de pretty obvious one, and he somehow hoped none of them had been caused by Ron himself.

Ron remembered when Carl had just arrived to Alexandria; how hard it was to talk to him, but how easy it was to walk and be around him, unless they were talking. The first time Ron didn’t feel uncomfortable talking with Carl was one day they decided not to go what the adults called a school, and went behind the wall, but not too far, to “hang out”. They had spent their time talking about what they remembered from their living schools, when they were just little kids. Surprisingly, it was mostly Carl the one who talked, Ron listened; he found it both amazing and disturbing how Carl, who had lived in the outside for so long, without real protection, who had seen his family and friends die, the boy who had killed innocent people, remembered more about the previous world than him, who had had what looked like a normal life for the most part since the very beginning.

The last conversations he remembered they had, had been discussions and fights for the most part; he had almost forgotten what having a nice talk with the boy felt like. He didn’t remember that feeling, but he missed it. He missed his friend; he missed getting to know someone so mysterious and unique; someone like Carl.  
Ron didn’t remember the person he used to be, but he hoped with his whole that Carl did remember, so he could tell old-world stories to him some other time, when he was well and awake. 

One more quick glance at his closed eye, and Ron felt like he had just had the most peaceful, comfortable and relieving conversation of his life; and if Rick hadn’t entered the room, he would’ve probably kept going.

“He’ll wake up” Ron heard Rick’s deep, raspy voice from behind. He quickly turned around to face him and looked away.

Rick got into the room and walked toward the boys, leaning against the walls as he hid his hands in the pockets of his bloody, ripped jeans.

Ron returned his sight to Carl.

“He has done this before, I’ve seen it” Rick added to his statement. “He’ll make it”

Ron didn’t want the guy to be talking to him; he wanted him out of his space, but he didn’t have a say in the situation, and he was in such a vulnerable place, he didn’t feel like starting a fight; especially not with the guy who could kill half the community in a blink.

“What do you mean?” Ron asked.

“When we were just starting, he got shot” Rick pointed at Carl. “The bullet split in seven different pieces; they had to be removed one by one, some without anesthesia” Rick added, pointing at his own torso, showing the places where Carl had been shot. 

“He’ll wake up”

Ron lowered his gaze to look at his own hands. “How?”

Rick fixed his posture and searched for Ron’s eyes, patiently waiting for him to look up when he was ready. “He just does, he always does”. Ron took a quick glance at Rick when he felt his stare, but turned away just as quickly.

Rick walked to the closest available chair and sat down.

“We’re all going to make it, Ron” Rick began. “We’re going to get our community back, our people, our friends…” Rick mentioned this last aspect as he pointed at Carl with a head movement, which Ron totally captured.

“I don’t think he’s going to want me as his friend when he wakes up”

“Is that why you’ve been here all day long?”

Ron’s silence confirmed Rick’s doubt.

“We all feel angry” Rick continued after a heavy sigh. “It’s easy to feel angry with all this, and it’s also easy to be mad at the people who less deserve it. It’s always been easier to make enemies than to make friends…”

Ron didn’t want to look at Rick in the eye; he knew if he did, he would have a hard time trying to hold back his tears. The sight of Rick made his stomach tie in knots; he was the guy who killed his dad, the guy who tried to get with his mom, and the guy who was responsible for the mess; but he was also their new leader, and deep down, he knew Rick had what it took to keep Alexandria safe. Either way, he didn’t want to look at him yet. Or ever. 

Rick silently looked around without looking at Ron either. He wanted to know what the boy was thinking; he wanted to know why, after all the fighting and all the hating on Carl, was sitting beside him, waiting for him to be alive; but he knew better than to ask. Whatever it was, it clearly meant something to Ron.

“You are a lot like him” Rick almost growled before he slowly walked out of the room.

Ron turned around to see the back of Rick’s head as he left. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -

“If I were you, I’d be damn worried” Carol announced, moving quickly from one side of the room to the other as she took dishes from the table to the sink and put medical supplies in one same spot on the counter’s free spot. “Having my defenseless child in the same room with the person that’s been basically threatening him? You’d need to be crazy to do something like that”

Rick had been standing with one hand on his hip and the other one on his head, looking both exhausted and restless.

“He won’t do anything” Rick replied, half believing his own words.

“The kid just saw his mom and his brother getting eaten on your watch, under your protection, and he lost his dad to you. If I were him I’d only want to cause you pain”

Rick looked down and held his forehead with one hand before looking away and letting out a strong sigh.

“If he wanted to kill Carl, he would’ve already done it” 

Carol stared at Rick with no response.

“You didn’t see them out there, with the herd” Rick pointed at the streets of the town. “How they helped each other keep going; how they were teaming up. Ron can hate me all he wants but he cares about Carl, and if he wanted him dead, he would’ve killed him the minute I turned around”  
Carol softened her expression and waited. “How can you be sure?”

“I just am”

Carol stepped in front of Rick with only a couple of long steps. “He’s dangerous, Rick”

Rick didn’t say a word. Neither did Carol.

“Rick” Carol tried to convince him of her point, but Rick only sighed once more.

“The kid just lost his complete family; he saw them die; he’s an orphan in a dead world, and which thing is worse, I don’t know, but a part of Ron’s life died with his family, and Carl has been his friend all along, even when they think that fighting over girls and video games is a serious discussion” 

“Rick, he’s-”

“He’s everything he has” Rick interrupted. “Why would you kill the only thing’s that’s left?”

Rick and Carol looked at each other for a brief moment; still disagreeing with each other yet understanding what the other meant. After a while, Rick took his gun and stepped out of the house. Carol did the same.

They weren’t used to checking a clock for the time, so they didn’t bother; they just knew it was really late. That was probably why they had both assumed Ron had been asleep when they talked about him. 

He wasn’t.

Ron wasn’t just cleaning the tears out of his face; he was really crying. He mentally thanked life for Carl being asleep, otherwise he would’ve seen this vulnerable side of Ron he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

When he looked at Carl after Rick and Carol left the house, he suddenly became everything Rick had said about him. He didn’t have anything but Carl; so he became everything Ron had in his life.

Looking for comfort, showing that he cared, and just holding on to him, Ron grabbed Carl’s hand and held it. His hand was loose and lifeless, but it was warm. The thought that blood was still running through the boy’s body made Ron feel the most relieved he had felt in a very long while. He knew that he couldn’t lose his only friend too.

Seeing their hands together reminded him of how Carl had offered his to Ron when they were about to march with the walkers and how he hesitated but accepted it anyway because he knew he needed it. He hadn’t realized how much he needed Carl. Somehow, he had become a huge part of his life. He had occupied most of the space in his thoughts and he had consumed most of his time; even when it was mostly Ron thinking about how bad Carl was for him, but it turned out that Carl was good; really good. He had made Ron care about something again; he had awaken what had been feeling dead. Ron had finally felt something more than just numbness and being purposeless. Those feelings weren’t necessarily positive, but they were enough. Carl had been good for Ron, and he would owe him forever.

And even when Carl had made Ron feel angry most of the time, he knew there was way much more than just teenage drama. There was no space in the world for those issues anymore.

Ron didn’t know how long it had been since he had stopped crying or how much time had passed with him, sitting on the chair, with his hand naturally laying on top of Carl’s and his head resting on the available space of the bed.

He had lost track of time, but when he fell a difference in Carl’s hand, he suddenly stood up straight and looked at the other boy. For a moment, he thought it had only been his imagination, and he chose to return to his previous position, but when he saw Carl’s finger twitch a little, he knew it hadn’t been.

Out of a reflex reaction, Ron took Carl’s hand with both of his and stared directly at Carl’s face, almost carving another hole on his face. Carl’s hand began to feel a little stronger and rigid, and soon enough, his fingers were lightly wrapped around Ron’s hands. He saw how Carl struggled to open his only eye, so Ron got up from his chair and proceeded to sit on the bed, next to him.

“Carl” Ron whispered, still holding his hand.

Carl’s eye was open just a little bit, but Ron could still see how it moved to look at Ron from the little skin rack.

“Ron” 

He wasn’t aware of how bad he wanted to hear Carl’s voice until he called his name. It had been more of a groan and a whisper than an actual word, but Ron had heard it perfectly, and it had been enough to make him smile.

“Your shoulder” Carl whispered.

Ron’s smile faded as he tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better look at his own shoulder. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten he had hurt himself during the invasion. Maybe it was getting better, or maybe it was so bad he couldn’t even process the pain, but that was the thing; there was no pain. Something about the fact that Carl’s first thoughts were the injury in Ron’s shoulder made him think he was being absolutely ridiculous, but still somewhat adorable.

“I’m fine” Ron responded. “Go back to rest, Carl” 

Carl took one last quick glance at Ron’s eyes before he closed his only one again. 

Ron kept on watching him as he slept, admiring the way his chest moved as he breathed. He knew he had lost his family; he knew the world wasn’t going to get better soon, but at that moment, everything seemed hopeful to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while after Carl was shot and Ron died, but I wasn't sure if I should post it. However, I did because I have a lot of Rarl feels. :)


End file.
